Starfleet Preparatory Academy Host Club!
by BlueStoneArcher
Summary: Thanks to a linguistics scholarship, Nyota Uhura has the opportunity to attent an elite prep-school, with all the promises of a Starfleet Officer's commission afterwards! Now, if only she can deal with all these crazy boys!


A/N: Because apparently I'm on crack. Or suffering cabin fever thanks to being snowed in for nearly a month.

I deviated, somewhat, from the original show here and there 'cause I was transcribing while watching the anime (and dang, do they talk fast!) and, well, I can't see Uhura saying some of the things Haruhi says. Tamaki/Kirk? Yeah, that's all pretty much in character. Anyway, disclaimers, then onto the show!

Disclaimers! I don't own either Star Trek or Ouran High School Host Club. They are the intellectual property of their respective owners (Roddenberry, JJ Abrams and... Bisco Hatori?). I make no profit from this work.

* * *

A little after three. School is officially out. The sun is shining. It's an absolutely beautiful fall day. The birds singing outside, and of course, I'm inside, desperately searching for a place to study.

Library? Nope. Total social chaos.

_ This place has four libraries! You'd think one of them would be quiet._

_ How are things in heaven, Mom? I can't believe it's been ten years already. I'm starting to think rich kids only come to school to have a good time._

_ An abandoned music room? I guess this is the only place available to study in piece and quiet._

"Welcome!" A chorus of warm male voices echoes out into the hallway.

_ But when I open the door, I found... the host club!_

I'd heard about them, of course. Host clubs, that is. Not in public school; good god no. That's a huge sexual harassment charge waiting to happen. But here, in these hallowed halls, girls nattered on constantly, and teachers seemed disinclined to stop them.

Guess when you're being paid enough by petty debutantes, you start ignoring the rest of it.

"Only those with excellent social standing and who come from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here, at the elite Starfleet Preparatory Academy. The SPA Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys, with too much time on their hands, entertain young ladies, who also have may too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Starfleet Prep's own little playground for the super rich and beautiful!"

"This... this is a host club?"

"Oh wow, it's a boy!" Two young men said in perfect unison.

"McCoy, Scott. I believe this visitor is in the same class as you?" The tallest of the group, a svelte individual with an impeccable bowl cut and sexy glasses, asked of them.

"Yeah, but he's shy. He doesn't act very sociably so we don't know much about him!"

The tall one let out a thoughtful _hmm_ and pasted on a small, very fake smile. Just a tiny quirk of the lips, but for a Vulcan, there was no way that much outward emotion was real. Maybe he's a Romulan?

"Well, that wasn't very polite. Welcome to the SPA Host club, Mr. Honor Student."

"What!?" The blonde popped up from his little throne. "You must be Uhura! You're the exceptional honor student we've heard about!"

"How do you know my name?"

"Why you're infamous," the Vulcan answered for the blonde. "It's not every day that a commoner earns entrance to our Academy." _Commoner. _"You must have an audacious nerve to work hard enough to fight your way into our school as an honor student, Mr. Uhura." _Audacious._

"Well, uh, thank you, I guess." _I'm sure he's just trying to be polite. Standard probably isn't his first language, and Vulcan's aren't supposed to be so... biting._

"You're welcome!" The vivacious blond popped up from his throne and threw a comfortable arm around my shoulders. "You're a hero to other poor people, Mr. Uhura! You've shown the world that even a poor person can excel at an elite private academy! It must be hard for you to constantly be looked down upon by others."

"I think you're taking this_ poor_ thing too far," I said, squirming out of his touchy feely grip and side-stepping out of his reach.

"Spurned. Neglected. But that doesn't matter now! Long live the poor! We welcome you, Poor Man, to our world – Of Beauty!" He followed insistently, leaning in close and using a voice that could fill an auditorium with it's bull.

Yup. No idea of personal space. _I'm out of here._

"Hey, come back here Ny-chan! You must be a super hero or something! That's so cool!'

"I'm not a hero; I'm an honor's student." I glared at the short, curly-haired muffin grabbing my arm. "And who are you calling Ny-chan!?"

"I never would have imagined the famous scholar, would be so openly gay!"

_What._ _No, seriously. _"Openly what?" No idea who this blonde idiot thinks he is, but he's really getting on my last-

"So, tell what kind of guy's your into! Do you like the strong and silent type," the blonde asked, indicating the tallish, fairy well muscled man with the short hair cut. "The boy lolita?" he flourished with his wrist towards the curly-haired boy who'd grabbed me before. "How about the mischievous type?" he swung towards the pair who, while obviously weren't related, somehow radiated the same... aura, for lack of a better term. "Or the cool type," his voice dropped half an octave as he specified the Vulcan standing, well, cool and aloof off to the side.

"Uh.. I uh..." _What the hell? I don't even... how does one even react to shit like this? Who the hell even _says_ shit like this? _"It's not like that! I was just looking for a private place to study!"

He'd caught me with those crystal clear blue eyes. Absolute sex written over every inch of him. Reached out towards my face and-

"Well maybe," he whispered, his nose mere centimeters from mine. "You're into a guy like me. What'dya say?"

I didn't think. I wish I had! I just needed to get away! Needed to get _him_ away from _me!_

So... I shoved him.

Two hands, right in the middle of his chest.

Toppled him. Right into a display case.

I tried to grab for the vase as it fell, but it hit the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces before I could get past the big, self-absorbed oaf!

"Aww!" a pair of twinned voices surrounded me. "We were going to feature that Pre-Surakian vase in an upcoming school auction! Well now you've done it, Commoner! The bidding on that vase was supposed to begin at eight hundred bars of gold-pressed latinum!"

"What!? Eight hundred bars? How thousand slips is that? How many strips is in a bar, anyway? Uh... I'm going to have to pay you back."

"With what money?" They taunted in perfect unison. "You don't even have enough to afford a school uniform. What's with that crummy outfit you've got on anyway?"

"Well, what do you think we should do, Jim?" the Vulcan asked.

"There's a famous saying, you may have heard, Uhura," Jim declared, regaining his throne with a dramatic swing of his leg. "When in Rome, you should do as the Romans do. Since you have no money, you'll have to pay us back with your body. Starting today, you're going to be the Host Club's dog."

_I don't know if I can handle this, Mom. I've been captured by a bunch of boys calling themselves a Host Club!_

Later that day...

"Oh, James, what's you're favorite song?"

"Why, the one that reminds me of you, of course."

The music room, if it had ever been one in reality, looked more like a fancy sitting room now. I'd been gone for only a few minutes, sent off to go retrieve some groceries for their very English-style tea, and the place had been filled with short, overstuffed love seats and arm chairs, circling low, exceedingly expensive tables. Individual tea sets, tasteful flower arrangements, and elegantly gathered curtains provided the final touch.

_Someone's got quite the feminine hand at this..._

"I baked you a cake today. Would you like a taste?"

"Only if you feed it to me, my darling."

Kirk – James T. Kirk – sat on one of these well appointed love seats, girls on either side. Hard to tell who's fooling whom, but the girls do seem to be swooning over him.

The girls, in their delicate yellow uniforms, looked like flowers in full bloom... but no, that image doesn't quite fit. It's the hummingbird that throws themselves onto the flower, not the other way around.

"Oh, so dreamy."

"May I have a word with you, James?" a delicate blonde simpered next to him. "I've recently heard the Host Club has taken in a little sehlat without a pedigree."

"Oh, I wouldn't call him that. Ah, speak of the devil." _Not like he hadn't heard me coming a mile away. Damn bastard. _ Kirk finally looked up from his little crowd of fans."Thanks for doing the shopping, little piglet. Did you get everything on the list?"

_What? Piglet?_

"Wait, what is this?"

"Just what it looks like. It's coffee."

"I haven't seen this brand before. Is this the kind that's already ground?"

"What do you mean? It's replicated instant."

"Replicated?" Parroted one girl in yellow.

"Instant?" Mimicked another. Both with adorable, confused little tilts of their heads.

"Whoa! I've heard of this before! It's Commoner's Coffee! You just add hot water!"

"I didn't know there was such a thing!" Thing One stage whispered to Thing Two.

"It's true then! Poor people don't even have enough time to grind their own coffee beans!" Thing Two said right back to Thing One.

By now, an embarrassingly large crowd had gathered to nod and agree to this sudden "discovery."

_If I kill them all, I won't keep my scholarship,_ I repeated to myself, for perhaps the third time that hour. _No scholarship, no Starfleet. No Starfleet, no captaincy. Just... deal with them._

"It seems Commoners are quite efficient," Spock declared.

"One hundred grams for one slip of gold pressed latinum?" McCoy noted the price tag.

"That's a lot less than we normally pay," agreed Scott.

"I'll go back and get something else," I grumbled. "Excuse me for not buying you guys expensive coffee."

"No! I'll keep it," Kirk declared. "I'm going to try it. I will drink this coffee!" he jumped to his feet, surrounded by polite, admiring applause.

_Who's he kidding?_

"Alright, Uhura. Come over here and make some of this Commoner's Coffee."

_I hate all these damn rich people._

"Haha. Oh, James. Now you're taking the joke too far." The blonde girl from before set her tea cup down with all of the grace of royalty. "Your pallet won't be able to stomach that crap. You don't have to drink it, just because he bought it. I'm sorry," she added, turning to face me with a smile so innocent and open, one might think she was just a cute little doll. "I was talking to myself."

"Umm-"

"Uhura!

"I'm coming."

_Demonstration of commoner's coffee, by a commoner_. I scooped a heaping teaspoon full into each of the cups he had laid out in preparation for "the magic." The gaggle had, of course, followed to this table, staring with wide-eyed curiosity. Sulu, silent as of yet, provided an urn of hot water. A quick dollop into each cup, and _tada_. Instant Coffee.

The _oohs_ and _aahs_ of the crowd did nothing to ease my growing foreboding.

_I'm surrounded by rich morons._

"Here."

I lifted the provided tray to the audience.

"Let the tasting begin!" Kirk declared.

"I'm a little scared to drink this stuff."

"I'm afraid if I drink this, my father will yell at me."

"What if I let you drink it from my mouth?" I nearly gagged at Kirk's suggestion.

"Oh well then, I would drink it." she whispered, nearly melting into a metaphorical puddle.

The crowd seemed overcome by some screaming fever.

_This is ridiculous._

Once the ruckus finally died down, and Kirk disappeared with his fan club, I got a better chance to observe and see how these guys operated. There had to be some reason the girls here were so... geah! So insane around these boys!

The "twins" were off at a table with a pair of girls. They'd gotten the same haircut, and with similar builds and carefully orchestrated mannerisms, she'd already heard several of the girls making mistakes over who was Leonard McCoy, called Len or Bones, depending on who's doing the cooing at that particular moment, and Montgomery Scott, Monty or Scotty. The fact that the boys didn't correct them meant they were obviously trying to bill themselves as, well, twins.

Too bad for them that my ear for languages picks up their accents like a charm; they might've polished the brogue and twang enough to fool these simpering girls, but I can tell a Scotsman from a Southern Gentleman any day of the week.

"So he had this nightmare that made him bolt up right out of bed!"

My ear twitched at that. _As in... they're sleeping together? And why were the whole lot of them so "shocked" that _I_ am gay? Or that they think I'm gay? Ug. My head hurts._

I sipped some of the coffee, hoping beyond all hope that caffeine would rid me of the pain these boys caused.

"Scotty, don't tell them that story! I asked you not to tell anyone that. Why are you so mean to me?" Bones got all whimpery, even going so far as to chew, self-consciously, on a thumbnail.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Scotty said, leaning in close enough that he looked like he was about to kiss his "twin." "I didn't mean to upset you. But you were so adorable when it happened that I had to tell them. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Bones whispered back.

"I've never seen brotherly love quite like that!" the girls at their table cooed, holding each other and blushing until they looked like beets

_What are they so excited about? I just don't get it._

I decided to start making more coffee, and tea, and pass it around to avoid that whole madness. Even thinking about the two of them was madness.

"Sorry, we're running late," Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, murmured while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hello, Pavel! Hey Hikaru!" Their girls responded, waiting patiently.

"We've been waiting here for you guys, hi!"

"I'm sorry," Chekov apologized again. "I was waiting for Hikaru to finish his Kendo meeting and I fell asleep. And I'm still not completely awake."

"So cute!"

_Again with the screaming. _I sighed.

_ Hard to believe Pavel Chekov is a senior. Short, cute, especially with the carelessly curled hair and big eyes._

Hikaru Sulu, on the other hand, looked every bit of the senior. Tallish, although not as tall at the Vulcan, the uniform suit did little to hide the wiry strength, the careful poise, and the muscles of someone who obviously more than occasionally "worked out." _Hell, he's imposing... unless he's got the muffin clinging to him._

"Chekov may seem young and childish, but he is a prodigy," a deep voice said from behind me. I shivered and looked up at the imposing Vulcan. Spock. _It was like he's reading my mind! They can do that right? So creepy._ "And then Sulu's allure is his strong and silent disposition."

"Uuummm..." _How to back away quickly, without seeming like I'm running away?_

"Ny-chan!" I turned back to the "prodigy" just in time to see him fling himself at me and spin me about like a toy. "Hey Ny-chan, do you wanna go have some cake with me?"

"Thanks, but I... don't really... like cake." _Need... room... to stop... spinning._

"Then, how would you like to hold my tribble, Usa-chan?"

"I'm not into tribbles."

"Are you saying you don't like Usa-chan?" Those huge eyes turned impossibly huger. _Is that even a word?_

He lifted the fluffy, nearly pink alien up for my inspection.

"I guess he is kinda cute, huh?"

"Take good care of him, okay?"

My arms were suddenly filled with a large, soft, cooing mass, as he tossed himself back into the laps of his waiting... erm... guests.

"You'll notice that our club utilizes each man's unique characteristics to cater to the desires of our guests," Spock continued, as if he had not been interrupted by a hypo of cute. "Just so you know, Jim is number one around here. He is the king. His request rate is 70%."

"What's this world coming to?" _Also known as, I've got serious doubts about the sanity of my half of the species._

"And in order for you to pay off your eight hundred bars of gold-pressed latinum debt with us, you will act as the Starfleet Preparatory Academy host club's dog until you graduate. I am sorry, I meant our errand boy. You can try to run away if you want to, Uhura, but just so you know, my family employs a private police force of 100 officers. By the way, do you have a passport?"

_Implied threat: I won't be able to stay in the country, and I don't have the means to run. The bastard._

_ "_You're going to have to work hard to pay off that debt, my little nerd," Kirk popped out of no where and blew a puff of hot air against the back of my ear. I jumped, and nearly dropped Chekov's tribble.

"Please don't do that again."

"You need a makeover, or no girl's going to look twice at you." I blinked. _What an abrupt change in topics._

"Yeah, well, I'm not trying to get girls to look at me."

"Are you kidding me? That's the most important thing! You have to learn to be a gentleman and please the ladies. Like me."

_Gag me with a spoon._

"I just don't think it's all that important. Why should I care about appearances and labels anyway? I mean, all that really matters is what's on the inside, right? I don't understand why you even have a host club like this."

"It's a cruel reality, isn't it?" Kirk bantered on. "It's not often that god creates a perfect person like Moi! Beautiful both inside and out."

"Say what?"

"I understand how you feel since not everyone is as blessed as I am, but you must console yourself, otherwise how would you go on living? And think about this, Uhura. Why do you think they put works of art in museums? Because beauty should be shared with the world. And those born beautiful should promote other beautiful things."

"There's a word to describe people like him," I mumbled to myself.

"That's why I started this club in the first place. I did it for those who are starved for beauty." Kirk flounced about.

"What is it?"

"For those working day and night, pursing beauty. And although you-"

"Oh man, I wish I could remember that word."

"I've chosen to share my expertise with you." Kirk bantered on without my noticing. "Here's a tip. When setting down your glass, extend your pinky finger as a cushion. And that way, when you set it down, you won't be making a lot of noise. Gentlemen do not make uncouth sounds. Besides if you-"

"Maybe, a pain in the neck? No. There's something that fits him perfectly."

"... But above all else, Uhura, you must remember... how effective a glance to this side can be."

"Huh, I got it!"

"Oh, did I strike a chord?"

"Obnoxious!" Too bad his head didn't deflate as easily as his ego. "I'm sorry, Kirk."

Scotty and Bones slid in behind me, both leaning their elbows on the top of my head. "You're a hero, all right," Scotty declared.

_But he is a pain in the neck._ "I'm sorry, Kirk. But your lesson did strike a small chord with me."

He bounced up, that "sexy" smile snapped back in place. "Really? It did? Let me teach you more, my friend."

"Well, he got over that quick."

"Boss," Bones admonished.

"Call me king!" Kirk flourished his fingers.

"You can teach him all the basics of hosting," Bones continued.

"But he's not going to get very far with the ladies if he doesn't look the part, you know," Scotty added, completing the thought. "He's not exactly host club material, but, maybe if we took off his glasses, it'd help."

One or other of them snatched my glasses before I had the chance to stop them.

"Hey, I need those! I used to have contacts, but I lost them on the first day of school."

"Scotty, Bones." Kirk snapped his fingers.

Their hazy silhouettes saluted. "Got it!" Two pairs of arms grabbed mine, bodily lifting and dragging me off.

"Spock, my hair stylist. Sulu senpai, go to the eye doctor and get him some contact lenses."

"What about me, Jim-chan?"

"Chekov senpai."

"Yes sir!"

"You, go have some cake."

"It's just us, Usa-chan. Everyone else said they were too busy."

Off in some side room, Bones and Scotty held up what looked like a duplicate of their uniforms. Well, if the hazy colors were anything to go by. "Here. Change into this uniform."

"What? But why?"

"Don't ask questions," they declared in unison.

_They must spend hours practicing that._

"No way!"

"Change! Change! Change!"

"Fine I'll change, but you two have to get out!"

They might be able to lift me up, but I still tossed the both of them outside the damn curtained room. _Idiots._

"Whoa..."

"Um, guys?" I asked, suddenly a bit shy, especially after a small army of stylists had come and gone. The results in the full length mirror were startling, but...

"Aren't you done changing yet?" Kirk asked.

"You sure it's really okay for me to keep this uniform?" I asked as I pulled back the curtain, instead of the real question I wanted to ask.

"Cute!" _I looks like the wavery, screaming sickness all the girls have around here is catching. Kirk's got it... and here I thought he was only a carrier._ "You're as pretty as a girl. Adorable!"

"Ny-chan, you look so cute!" Chekov gleamed from behind his chest-high stack of empty cake plates.

"If we had known that's how you really look..." Scotty began.

"...we would have helped you out sooner," Bones finished.

"Who knows," Spock agreed, after a moment's contemplation. "Maybe he will draw in some customers."

"You know, that's just what I was thinking." _Bullcrap Kirk, at it again._ "Our errand boy is moving up the ranks. Starting today, you are an official member of the host club. I will personally train you to be a first-rate host. If you can get one hundred customers to request your service, we will completely forget about your eight hundred bar debt."

"A host?"

The next day, I found myself seated on one of those low, overstuffed antique arm chairs. As uncomfortable as the situation, of course. And surrounded by three primp, proper, adorable, curious girls.

_Ninety-seven to go_, I thought with an inward cringe.

"So, tell me, Uhura. Do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do?"

"I'm curious. What kind of products do you use on your skin?"

"Yeah, it's so pretty."

_I can't do this any more. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. _

_ And, of course, these girls are old hats at all this nonsense. _

_ Those adorable tilts of the head. _

_ Prompting me for conversation. _

_ What am I supposed to say, anyway?_

"So why did you join the host club, Uhura?" they all asked in unison. Excited. Chipper. Piranha.

_All I have to do is get a hundred customers to request me and they'll forget about my eight hundred bar debt. I know just what to tell them._

It hurt. It hurt a lot telling them _that_ story, but what else was I going to say? _And Mom, you always said, honesty is the best policy._

"I see. Your mother was sick and passed away 10 years ago. Who does the chores around the house?"

"Oh, I do them myself. My mother taught me. She was an amazing cook. And when she went to the hospital, she left me all kinds of great recipes. It was fun to create each dish, especially when they turned out well. And it made me happy to see my dad enjoy it. I've had a hard childhood, but dad and I have managed to make it through okay."

"So... uh..."

"Is it okay if tomorrow..."

"...We request to sit with you again?"

"Yeah, I really appreciate that, ladies!"

"Why is he so popular?" Kirk mumbled from where he eavesdropped.

"He's a natural," Spock replied.

"No training needed," the "twins" added.

_I know they were all supervising my first "hosting" but sheesh._

"Have you forgotten about me?" that snippy, blonde girl said from Kirk's side, drawing his attention back to her.

"Oh no, sorry princess. I'm just a little bit concerned about our newest host."

"Well, that's obvious, James. You sure have been keeping an eye on him."

"Of course, I have to. I'm training him to be a gentleman like me. Uhura, come here for a minute."

"What's up?" I asked "King" Kirk, after begging the forgiveness of the girls who just promised to bring my quota from ninety-seven to ninety-four.

"I'd like you to meet someone. This is my regular guest, princess Carol Marcus."

_ The one who'd made fun of commoner's coffee before. Just smile and keep going. "_Miss, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"That was so cute!" Kirk smothered me against his tie and spun me around and around. "That air of bashfulness was very good! Super good, amazingly good!"

"Oh James," Carol Marcus grumbled from somewhere to the left... right... behind... uggh...

"Oh you're so cute!"

The tea and cake I'd just been eating threatened to make a reappearance ad Kirk kept spinning faster and faster.

"Sulu! Help me!"

Lightening quick, the kendo student snatched me out of "King" Kirk's arms with a mighty swing. Of course, he held me in the air like I weighed nothing more than a pillow.

"Sulu senpai," Kirk said. "You really didn't have to go that far. Come on little one. Let daddy give you a big hug!"

"I've already got a dad. I don't need another one."

_I just need a trip to the restroom. Ugh._

After a refreshing slash of cold water on my face, I got back to find an empty music room. Guess the hour was up and everyone'd headed home. Time for me to do the same.

_ Hey, what happened to my bag? _

A chance glance out the window answered my question.

_Are you kidding me? But how did that happen? _

Outside, in the massive fountain in the back courtyard, my messenger bag, and all its contents, were strewn about, soaking up as much water as possible.

_I didn't think there were bullies at this school. Hm. Guess they're everywhere._

As I ran to retrieve my stuff, I passed Carol Marcus in the hall.

"Oh, it's you again. I bet you love having James making you over and fawning over you. It's useless, though. You're always going to be a second class citizen."

_ I have a feeling that girl is the one who threw my bag in the pond. I can't be bothered with her right now, though. I've gotta find my wallet or I won't have any money for food this week._

"Hey, commoner! You've got some nerve, skipping out on the club like that. Why is your bag all wet?"

I looked up from where I stood, new uniform pants rolled up to keep them dry, in the middle of the pond. I'd gotten the bag, and my books, out of the drink. And there was Kirk, in all his shining glory, looking down at my sodden stuff.

"Eh, it's no big deal. I got it. I just can't find my food money."

I kept digging around in the muck and algae. After a couple minutes, a loud splash drew my eyes over to him.

He'd rolled his pants up too and, high and mighty as he was, was bent over, looking in the water too.

"Hey, you don't have to do that. You'll get wet."

"A little water never hurt anyone. Besides, people are always telling me that I'm dripping with good looks. Oh! Hang on a second. This what you're looking for? What's the matter? You're staring off into space. You're not falling for me, are you?"

"Ug! No way!" I snatched back my wallet.

The glimpse of a kinder, quieter Kirk was... disturbing. Probably just another act...

"How did your bag end up in the pond anyway?"

"Well, uh... I guess I accidentally dropped it out the window at some point."

The next day, Spock showed me my bookings.

Carol Marcus, right at the top of the list.

I gulped. _Well, down to ninety-three now._

"Oh really, that must have been terrible," she simpered, after demanding I recount the story of how my things ended up soaking up enough water to fill a bathtub. "I can't imagine what I'd do if my bag fell into the pond."

_Why did she request me when it's obvious she doesn't like me?_

"And you actually made James T. Kirk search that dirty old pond with you. How astonishing. You do realize he's a blue blood, not a commoner, right? The only reason he's paying attention to you is because he's trying to turn you into a gentleman. Don't start thinking he cares about you just because he's doting on you."

"Now I understand. You're jealous of me."

The honest truth of the statement made something snap in her.

She snagged me, knocked the table over, and pulled me on top of her supine form with a dramatic scream.

"No, Uhura, leave me alone! Somebody, help! He just attacked me! Someone, do something! Teach this commoner a lesson!"

Twin vases dumped icy water over the both of us.

"Why did you do that? Do something, James! Uhura just assaulted me."

"I'm disappointed in you," Calm King Kirk stepped up and helped Carol Marcus to her feet. "You threw his bag into the pond, didn't you?

"You don't know that. Do you have any proof that I did?"

"You know, you're a beautiful girl. But you aren't classy enough to be our guest, dear. If there's one thing I know, Uhura is not that kind of a man."

"But why, James? You idiot!"

Marcus fled from the room, full of crocodile tears.

"Hmm, now how am I going to punish you?" Conniving King Kirk turned back to me. "Because it is your fault after all. Your quota is now one thousand!"

"One... thou...sand?"

"Come on." He held out a hand. "I've got high expectations for you, my little rookie."

Spock joined the little group with a paper bag, emblazoned with the school's emblem. "This is the only spare uniform we have. Sorry, but it is better than a wet one, correct?"

I passed a thankful glance at him, and Scotty and Bones for the rescue. Even if it did leave me drenched and needing yet another set of clothes. Not that they seemed to be hurting for them.

"Thanks a lot, you guys. I'm gonna go change."

Back in the curtained changing room, I started the long fight with the soaked wool. And who would have thought a wet silk tie was difficult to unknot!

"Uhura, here you go," Kirk's approaching voice announced his arrival. "I brought you some towels."

I turned, prepared to reach through the curtain for them, only to find Kirk getting an eyeful of me only in my camisole top and uniform pants.

He stood, stone still, while the curtain dropped back into place.

The shocked expression on his face, however, I'll keep in a special place for the rest of his life.

_That is, until I kill him._

"Uhura."

"Yeah."

"So, you're a girl?"

_Wow, so he really didn't notice... and here I thought all the guy's were just pulling my pigtails 'cause well..._

_ "_Biologically speaking, yeah. Listen, Kirk, I don't really care whether you guys recognize me as a boy or a girl. In my opinion, it's more important for a person to be recognized for who they are rather than for what sex they are."

He was bent over my student ID, knocked down on the ground during some part of the changing, when I finally stepped out, now draped in the same flowery yellow dress as the rest of the girls.

"Nyota Uhura," he was mumbling to himself. "Why didn't I ask his... her... name before? I should have known. I would have known! If-"

"Well, this is an interesting development, is it not?" Spock asked the assembled boys. Obviously, he'd planned something like this to happen, since he supplied the dress. And the correct size too. Just like the male uniform. _Still creepy._

"Oh, yeah," Scotty and Bones said in unison, high fiving each other. Obviously, they knew about my gender as well.

"Uh, you know, I have to say, Kirk. I thought you were pretty cool earlier."

Suddenly Quiet King Kirk blushed furiously.

"Now I could be wrong," Spock said, with that trademark pasted on smile. "But I think we may be witnessing the beginnings of love here."

"Being a host and getting fussed over by a bunch of girls might not be that bad," I said, ignoring that comment completely. "I wonder how I can pull it off. I've got it! I'll just call everyone dude and bro now!"

* * *

A/N: I was rather tempted to make the Carol Marcus/"Princess" Ayanakouji into Christine Chapel, but, well... that's definitely Renge, and I figured, if you guys like this enough, I might do a couple other random episodes for the fun of it.

So, my first crossover! Yes? No? Terrible? Find my mountain and start a forest fire? (Actually, I might like the last one. It's blasted cold up here! Haha.) Lemme know what you think!


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